Bullet From A Gun
by ASinkingShip
Summary: Six years ago-Spencer Reid was kidnapped, drugged and tortured by a man named Tobias Hankel-Now, as the BAU team are called to his home town of Las Vegas, he begins to act odd. And when he attracts the attention of the UnSub, will the team find him on time? *Also on Wattpad-under my account SunStorm*
1. Chapter 1

_When you're forgiving but you can't forget ,It feels like you're drowning but you've still got breath, And we've been tryin' to leave this ghost to rest, But there ain't no getting out of this mess._

_-The Script's 'Bullet From A Gun.'_

* * *

A skinny man with dark hair looked around, lifting the Ray-Bans from his face to get a clear view of the abandoned graveyard he was in. His expression was sheepish, like a child who had been caught red handed. His black Converse crushed the dead leaves under his feet as he walked down the slope that led to the place of his nightmares. It hadn't changed; even though in daylight it didn't look as bad as he imagined it, it still had the same musty smell that seemed to have lingered for a lifetime.

After a while of just looking around, he bent down onto his knees, touched the mossy, damp floor and sighed.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"Pretty boy! Oi, Reid!"

Spencer Reid looked at his friend Derek Morgan approaching him and sighed; he had forgotten that they had made plans for this weekend.

"And why did you not show up?"

Spencer looked at the ground, "Sorry, I...uh, I had to go out of town."

Derek raised a dark eyebrow and looked at his friend who looked guilty as hell, "Your Mom?"

Spencer shrugged and took a sip of his coffee as he walked over to his desk in the bullpen. Just as he was leaving, Derek grabbed his arm.

"Are you okay?"

Spencer pulled his arm away, wanting to scream at him: _"Am I okay? No, Derek I am not okay! It has almost been six years since the worst day of my life, my headaches are still here and I'm still so confused over the whole Emily thing, so no, I am not okay!"_

Of course he didn't; he just nodded and walked away from his best friend, who knew he was lying.

* * *

It was a slow day at the BAU office in Quantico; it was so slow that Derek Morgan finished all of his paperwork and Spencer Reid had drunk five cups of coffee. When it was nearly the end of their shift, Derek looked over at Reid who had drifted off to sleep on his desk.

Sighing, he watched as Jennifer Jereau - or JJ as she preferred to be called - shook him awake, and he watched Reid jump about a mile in the air. Taking a deep breath after his little panic, he and JJ engaged in a deep conversation, whispered so Derek couldn't hear.

When they had done, JJ looked worried; her eyebrows were furrowed as she made eye contact with Morgan, who got up and following her to her office. She closed the door behind him.

"What's wrong?"

JJ sighed, "It's Reid; there's something wrong. He wouldn't tell me but he told me his nightmares are back."

"_The_ nightmares or just nightmares?"

"The one and only Tobias nightmares."

Morgan sighed; he remembered the phone calls he used to get for about six months after Reid quit using. He shuddered remembering his best friend's voice break over the phone in a distressed panic that Tobias' alter ego of his father was coming to get him. But he's grown since then; lost so much of his child-like innocence.

"Is he okay?"

JJ shrugged, "I'm worried; after Emily and then he told me about...thinking about taking Dilaudid again… I don't want to lose him to that."

"He wouldn't slip to that again. He just wouldn't."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**"I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing. Just prayed to a god that I don't believe in."-The Script:Breakeven**

_Run! That was his natural instinct; the only thing in his mind at that minute was to get as far away as possible. He ran over the uneven ground, through the darkness which normally would have scared him, but not now; now he had bigger issues pressing him than his fear of darkness. He could hear them behind him, like a herd. The ground rumbled, their dead weight moving surprisingly fast. Even after all of his training at the FBI, they were gaining on him, ready to claw at him. He kept running._

_Suddenly, he tripped. He tried to get up, but they were around him, pushing him down and grabbing at his skin and clothes. He could feel their dead, slimy hands on his skin, yet he refused to look at them; knowing that if he did look, he'd have to look at their empty, sorrowful eyes._

_"Why did you not save me?" they mumbled in unison, like a zombie from a horror film. Their droning voices shook him to his core. _  
_With his eyes blurred from tears and from fear, he screamed, "I'm sorry! I couldn't...I couldn't."_

_They dragged him backwards slightly, and then turned him onto his back, forcing him to stare into the faces that were cursed to stay in his eidetic memory forever. The faces of those his team - and himself - were too late to save. He squeezed his eyes together, and prayed to a God he didn't believe in to save him._

_Then the clawing stopped, and he looked up into a naked light bulb. Looking around, his heart skipped a beat._

_Anywhere but here… please, oh God, help me! He thought frantically, squeezing his eyes shut again and hoping his environment would change, yet the smell of wood and burning fish stung his nose, reminding him where he was. _  
_Then he heard that voice, the voice of Raphael (Tobias Hankle) leering over him,"Do you know what this is? It's God's will."_  
_"You don't have to do this," He heard himself say in a broken, trembling voice. Opening his eyes, he saw Raphael place a bullet into the cylinder of a revolver and spinning it, playing a game of Russian Roulette._  
_Pointing the gun at his head he said, "I'm doing this in the name of God."_

_And then a gunshot echoed through his ears._

Waking up, covered in sweat, Spencer Reid looked around him. He was in his apartment - his safe, homely apartment - alone. Glancing at the clock that read 5.30 am, he got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to take a bath before leaving for work.

When he was drying himself, he glanced at the fading track marks in the crook of his arm. Disgusted, he pulled on a long sleeved, white shirt and put on a black tie. When he was finished getting ready into black trousers, a blue sweater vest and his scruffy black Converse, he made a cup of coffee and packed his messenger bag, ready to leave for work.

Aaron Hotchner looked over the bull pen from his office, noticing that the youngest member of the team was in earlier than usual. He decided to go and talk to him, so he grabbed his empty coffee mug and made his way to the kitchenette.

"Hello, Reid," he said, smiling politely.  
Reid tipped his head towards Hotch, and continued to stare at his coffee.  
Deciding to ignore the young genius' quietness, he continued, "What's up?"  
Reid's head snapped up, "Wh...Why would anything be up?"  
Raising his eyebrows in confusion, wondering what he did wrong, Hotch continued, "I didn't suggest anything was wrong; I thought I was asking what you were doing, but if there ever is anything wrong, you know you can talk to me, right?"  
Nodding his head, Reid left the kitchenette and made his way to his desk to continue reports.

At around half twelve, the flamboyant Penelope Garcia came stumbling into the bull pen in her bright pink heels, "Briefing room in five."

Her blond head was whirling as she made her way up the steps and along the catwalk to the briefing room. Setting up, she laid out the paper file for Reid and set up the presentation on the screen as her team filed in.

"Hello, my beautiful BAU profilers. Today we are being called to Las Vegas, where someone has been kidnapping women - all aged 30 to 35 with brown hair - and keeping them for five days before dumping their bodies in a place which meant something to the victim. This is Kathryn Howard, a thirty year old woman. She had just moved from Cheltenham in England to Las Vegas. She was found in a local park, which is where she first met her boyfriend, who was her reason for moving."

The woman on the screen showed a toothy, perfect smile, along with dark brown flowing hair and deep green eyes. She looked so blissful in the photo, the team found it hard to believe she was dead.

"How was she killed?" Prentiss asked, her voice slicing through the silence.

"She was strangled, but she was found with morphine in her system."

"So he injects her with morphine and then he strangles her?" Morgan raised his eyebrows at this fact.

Garcia nodded before moving on, "The second victim is Leah Mash. She is thirty-three years old and the mother of two little identical girls. She was found on a bench outside of the place she worked at half one in the morning."

The next photo was eerily similar to the first; she had a cascade of dark hair that fell around her flawless, ecstatic features.

"Was she drugged and strangled too?" Rossi asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Yes, but she had something else in her system."

"What?"

"Dilaudid."

As the sound of her voice disappeared, everyone lapsed into an awkward silence, except for Rossi who had no idea what was going on. They all took their focus away from Reid, as they all knew about his...problem. This made Reid's ears burn as he knew what they were thinking.

Feeling bad for her junior G-man, Penelope moved on, "We also have another girl missing."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: The Flight**

_'And you've been up all night, and the night before, and you've lost count of drinks and time. Your friends keep calling worried sick, and there's strangers everywhere.' _  
_- Snow Patrol: This Isn't Everything You Are_

Stepping onto the jet, JJ let out a sigh. Next to the office and her house, this place was where she spent most of her time. Placing her tablet on a table, she pushed herself into the window seat and leant back as she watched her team file in. Hotch had that face on; his case face, whilst Rossi had his calm demeanour that he upheld so well. Morgan just fell onto the long sofa and Prentiss sat beside her. She looked around for Reid, and noticed he was sitting behind them with - surprisingly enough - a pair of earphones in.

"Reid?"  
Looking up towards the person who had said his name, he got up, grabbing his paper file as opposed to the team's tablets.  
"So, why does this UnSub give his victims pain relief before he kills them?"  
Morgan, plunging on into their review, was thinking of Reid and his strange behaviour lately. There was one assumption that played on his mind, yet he refused to believe it.  
"Maybe it's a sign of remorse?" Prentiss replied, flicking through pictures on her tablet.  
"I doubt it; maybe it's a sign of torture. Garcia, do any of these people have a prior history with drugs?"  
The blond on the computer screen, typed furiously as she spoke, "Only one; the missing girl, Hannah Jones. She has a history with heroin; she was pulled out of college to go to rehab, she got out, and made something of herself. She now owns a small business with her sister Caitlyn."  
"Okay, Reid and JJ; you work on geographical profile and victimology. Morgan; you and Prentiss go and talk to Hannah's sister, Caitlyn. Rossi; you and I will go to the dump sites."

After getting their assignments, they split up and went to their separate seats.

"Hotch?"  
Looking up from his file into his friend's face, "Yes, Dave?"  
"What was going on back at Quantico? With the Dilaudid?"  
Rossi, who hadn't been there when Reid had suffered through his addiction, was confused. He wanted to know and he knew he_ had_ to know.  
Hotch's calm exterior suddenly began awkward as he looked over to where Reid was sitting. The young man had his eyes closed and a pair of white earphones in.

"Well, a year before you returned, we were called to Georgia for a case, and there was a witness called Tobias Hankle. I sent Reid and JJ to interview him, but Reid quickly discovered that he was actually the UnSub. They split up to catch him. JJ was almost savaged by dogs and Reid was kidnapped. Hankle had been living as three people: himself, his father and an archangel, Raphael. The side that was Raphael told Reid to pick people to kill, the father personality beat him senseless and the real side of him injected Reid with Dilaudid to ease his pain."

Rossi took a deep sigh, knowing straight away, "And he became addicted?"

Hotch nodded, a frown appearing, "But that was a long time ago."

Sensing that they shouldn't talk on the topic any longer, Rossi sat back and thought about what he had just learnt about his younger co-worker.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_'I don't remember the moment I tried to forget, I lost myself is better not said, now I'm closer to the edge.' -30 Seconds To Mars: Closer To The Edge._

"So… victimology?"  
Jennifer Jereau wiped her long blond hair away from her face as she looked at her co-worker and best friend, Spencer Reid. She couldn't help but notice how intensely he was staring at the map in front of him; she assumed he was insuring that the geographical profile was correct.  
"Huh?" he said, his head snapping up quickly. Then she realised he was miles away, lost in his own head.  
"Spence," she sighed, thinking about how odd he had been lately, "What's going on?"  
He gulped, toying with the silver watch that he wore over the sleeve of his gray sweater, "Did you know that it's been six years?"  
She was confused, she counted back six years, 2006...Then like a train, it hit her.

Tobias.

"Oh, Spence...I-"  
He cut her off, "No, it's not even the fact that it's been six years. It's just lately, with everything that's happened to Emily."  
JJ felt like he had punched her. She flinched at his words of mentioning the time when she had lied to him and nearly drove him back to drug taking.  
He didn't notice this as he continued, "And then the headaches… I just felt like that was the icing on the cake you know, but then I got that...that call, reminding me."  
She cocked her head to the side, "Call?"  
He started to get extremely uncomfortable, "Excuse me."

_Stupid, stupid Spencer_, he scolded himself as he walked to the coffee machine of the North Las Vegas Police Department. The last time he was there, he had found out that his Father had left because his Mother witnessed a crime. Remembering this, he got an urge to go see his Mom...

_When the case is over_, he promised.

He sat down, cradling his mug full of that heavenly liquid mixed with the perfect amount of sugar. His mind went back to the phone call, the one that had ruined his mood.

* * *

_"Spencer?" _  
_Looking at the caller ID he smiled; he hadn't talked to his mentor from Beltaway clean cops for a while, "Hey John." _  
_"Well, hello stranger, I was wondering how you're holding up."_  
_"Been up and down, how are you?"_  
_"You know me kid, always fighting fit. Well anyway, I noticed that it's time you got your five year medal."_  
_"What?" _

_Spencer Reid was speechless. He had forgotten; he had other things to worry about. He knew he should be proud, but he was upset. He didn't want there to be a need for him to get a medal. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his first year one, now rusted and worn. He shouldn't have had to get this..._  
_With tears in his eyes, he hung up. He yearned so bad to talk to JJ, yet he couldn't. She had lied to him about Emily. No, it would be safer to handle this myself; less chance of pain, he thought bitterly._

* * *

JJ looked out of the glass window of the FBI section of the NLVPD towards Reid. He was hunched over his cup of coffee, lost in his thoughts again. Her mind was turning with possible chances of who had called him but she decided to start with victimology.

Hannah Jones, the missing woman, was thirty. She had the same cascade of brunette hair and perfectly even features and she had a twelve year old daughter. Her past with heroin worried JJ; if the UnSub _was _drugging his victims before he killed them, she would have to go through a lot of psychological pain…

So, the UnSub is taking pretty, tall and skinny, 30-35 year old women, with dark brown hair, then leaving them in a place that meant something to them.

Glancing at Reid again, she rang Hotch and informed him of the geographical profile and the victimology, her mind secretly not on the case...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**_'There was nothing in sight, but memories left abandoned, there was nowhere to hide, the ashes fell like snow. And the ground caved in between where we were standing...and your voice was all I heard that I'd get what I deserve.'_**** - Linkin Park: New Divide.**

_Falling._  
_Falling. _  
_Falling through the darkness, his heart pounded and fear crept in. He closed his eyes to imagine that impossible haven. After falling through the never ending abyss for what felt like hours, he heard them: voices taunting him. Snapping his eyes open, he couldn't see anyone; he could just hear the haunting voices. _

_"Reid...Reid..."_

_His name almost became a chant; a slow, melodious chant that echoed through the empty darkness. Trying to escape back to his haven, he shut his eyes, willing himself to ignore them. _

_Suddenly, he felt a blow to the left side of his head, forcing him to fly right. Looking in the direction of the force, he saw Hotch. However, this wasn't the kind, fatherly Hotch that he knew; this dream Hotch had red glaring eyes that read his soul. _  
_Reid couldn't help but notice that they still seemed to be moving; falling downwards, yet Hotch stood straight and upright. _

_"You cause me nothing but trouble," he spat, "I should have fired you!" _

_He kept telling himself that he was simply dreaming a silly little dream, but his irrational mind refused to believe him, even with an IQ of 187. He was nothing without his job; just a smart kid with a bad past. _  
_The dream Hotch, sensing his distress, laughed; a cold evil laugh that echoed through Reid's heart, shattering it. Then he just simply disappeared, as if he had never been there. _  
_Spencer Reid's eyes pricked with tears; he hated the dark and he hated being alone. Now he had both; even the voices had gone. Shutting his eyes again, he waited for the impact he thought impossible to eventually come. _

_Then the ground hit him like a train in a tunnel, smashing into his ribs and winding him. His lungs exploded and his head pounded, blurring his vision. When he was able to focus again, he looked up onto a cold, gray, concrete ceiling. Sitting up, he noticed the whole room was bland and gray. Hugging his arms around himself, he tried to get some heat before noticing something. It was a bundle; a bundle covered in a black sheet. _

_Making his way closer, he gently reached for his gun - an automatic response - and felt nothing; he remembered that this was just a dream. _

_"C'mon Spence," he said out loud, forcing himself to pull away the black sheet. He immediately regretted it; underneath laid the dead body of Hannah Jones. Her eyes, empty and dead, stood in contrast to her cascade of dark curls. She was dead and there was nothing he could do_.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. _

Rolling onto his side, he glanced at his brick of a cell phone. The caller ID read: Derek Morgan. Glancing at the bedside alarm clock, he cussed loudly; he was an hour late.

Grabbing his phone and hitting answer, he hurriedly said, "I know, be at the station in twenty."  
"No...Kid, meet us at Summerlin."  
"As in the law firm?" he froze, half way through buttoning up his shirt. He couldn't go there; it had been two years…  
"Reid, I promise that you don't have to go near him if you don't to."  
"Morgan, I'm not letting my own Father issues get in the way of the case. I'll see you in twenty then."

* * *

Scared, he pulled up to the yellow crime scene tape, making sure that he had his badge and gun. He could see his team through the tinted windows of his FBI issued SUV; Morgan was staring at the space where the body was presumably found, the rest were chatting about possible reasons why she was dumped there. Before getting out, he looked at a crowd of onlookers...no sign of William Reid. With a deep sigh of relief, he walked towards his team.

"Hey, sleeping beauty is awake!"  
Prentiss smiled at him. She was obviously relieved that he was there, yet she could sense his hesitance and awkwardness. She also noticed how he kept looking at the small crowd forming behind the yellow tape. She knew about his Father issues and the hurt that Reid had experienced when he left. She had secretly profiled that his Father's abandonment was the core reason behind his issues.  
Taking his eyes away from the people, he said quietly, "So, tell me what you know."  
Hotch sighed, "Unfortunately, we don't know a lot yet. The ME is still looking over her body. But there was a change this time: the UnSub left a note."  
Handing Reid a plastic evidence bag, he watched as the young man read the note in seconds.

_I am watching you BAU. Hope you enjoy my present. See you soon. _

"He's watching us?" with wide eyes, he looked around, "How does he know we're here? We haven't made a press statement."  
"He could be a member of the Police," Morgan suggested.  
Hotch clenched his jaw, "It's possible. Do not let anything go unnoticed from now on, trust each other and let's find this son of a bitch. Rossi and Reid, you go and talk to the employees of the law firm, Morgan and Prentiss you two go to the ME office and JJ, you and I will go and talk to the family of Hannah Jones."

With that, Hotch left.

* * *

Rossi groaned as he reached the last name on the list of Summerlin employee's: William Reid.  
Reid, also looking at his own list, gulped and quickly excused himself. Sighing, Rossi asked a secretary to call in William.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked up when he heard the door opening.  
Standing there, in suit pants and a dress shirt, was a small man who looked a bit like Rossi's co-worker. The features were distant; the only thing very similar was the brown color of the eyes.

"Hello again, Mr Reid."  
The lawyer's eyes widened in shock, "Agent Rossi?"  
Nodding, David Rossi motioned for William to sit down.  
"Is Spencer here?"  
As if he could hear through walls or mind read, Spencer came into the small office they were using as an interview room, "Hello, Dad."  
"Spencer? You've changed."  
"Yeah, well a lot can happen in two years."  
The anger in his voice was evident. Even though he had said that he had forgiven his father, he knew deep down he hadn't, as it was easier to say than to do.

"Anyway," Rossi interrupted, "I'm sure you heard about the body found outside this morning. The victim's name was Hannah Jones. Did you know her?"  
William Reid thought for a moment then said, "Hannah? Was she related to Caitlyn Jones by any chance?"  
Rossi nodded solemnly, "They were sisters."  
William Reid's eyes widened slightly, "I'm Caitlyn's attorney."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**_'Weep for yourself my man, you'll never be what is in your heart. Weep Little Lion Man, you're not as brave as you were at the start.'_**** - Mumford & Sons: Little Lion Man**

He was drained; physically, emotionally and mentally. His head pounded and his eyelids were heavy as he reached for yet another file while taking a drink of his too sugary coffee. The entire team had been assigned to reading files of potential UnSubs that Garcia had sent over, but he was distracted.

After seeing his father, he had excused himself from his team, and gone to a bathroom. As soon as he locked the door, he broke down. Tears flooded down his thin face; his slim frame shuddered with every passing sob.

Spencer Reid had cracked.

He cried for his team, for his family, for himself. JJ eventually noticed how long he had been gone and went to look for him. She was shocked to find him hunched over, sobbing. She had embraced him and soothed him as he clung to her like a child does to their mother. She held him while he cried long enough for him to regain his composure to go back to work.

Now, sitting in the small station of the NLVPD, he looked at his team. Morgan was reading files, the anger in his face growing more evident with each passing word he read, JJ and Prentiss were in a deep conversation, occasionally looking at him - he knew JJ was telling her about his breakdown - and Rossi and Hotch sat simply in a comfortable silence, staring at an evidence board.

Sighing loudly, he quickly returned to work; his only motivation was his steaming mug of sugary coffee.

Hotch, hearing a loud sigh, diverted his attention from the evidence board to see a team that looked down trodden. He glanced quickly at the clock above their heads; it read 12.50am. _Damn, that's late... _  
He'd been so caught up in going over this case and trying to link the pieces he didn't notice they had worked way past their usual time.

"Okay, everybody, listen up! Let's head back to the hotel and try to get some rest. We're going to need it if we're going to crack this case."

Spencer Reid sighed as he stepped through the threshold of his room. _Hallelujah for separate rooms_, he thought with relief. Dropping his mustard coloured messenger bag on the soft carpeted floor, he made his way to the bedroom. Lying down on the soft, springy bed, a wave of numbness embraced him, easing all the tension that had collected in his back. After roughly five minutes of lying like a log, he decided getting changed into something comfier would be better. Swiftly, he made his way over to the chest of drawers that held the clothes from his go bag. He grabbed a pair of light gray sweat bottoms from the second pine drawer. As he was practically jogging to the bathroom, the prospect of bed was playing on his mind so much, he didn't notice the silhouette of a person standing on his balcony.

* * *

"Hotch? Is Reid with you?"

_ Please say yes...Please..._

"No, Morgan. I thought he was coming with you?"

"I thought so too, but I'm in his room now, and he isn't here. Hotch, the place is a mess; there's been a struggle."

And he was right. On the floor lay the remains of what was once a pale blue lamp, around the balcony lay the shattered remains of what was the glass door and there was blood. Not a lot for someone to be seriously hurt, but enough for Morgan to worry.

_Maybe the kid just flipped out and went to cool off,_ he told himself, but deep down he didn't believe it. His little brother was in danger.

"We'll be right there!"

Hanging up, Morgan proceeded to look around for any clues to where Reid may be. Looking near the blue shards of broken lamp, he saw something: a neatly folded square of plain white paper. Carefully opening it up, he scanned the words.

_Hello BAU. I told you I'd hope we'd see one another soon, I just didn't expect this soon. I'm going to have fun with Dr. Reid. Five days._

Gulping, he waited for the arrival of his team, wishing he'd been there to help his best friend.

* * *

Two hours later, the team were at the station again, waiting for forensics on the note, fingerprints, DNA… anything to give them a clue.

No one said anything. The last time Reid was kidnapped he nearly died… no, he actually _did _die. It plagued the team - with the exception of Rossi. The images of Reid being beaten before them… They didn't want that to happen again. That was the last thing they wanted.

As Hotch started to talk, his mobile rang with an unknown number.

"Hotchner?" His voice was cautious and suspicious as he awaited the other end to respond.

"Hotch? Oh god, Hotch."

On the other end of the phone came the crying voice of none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**_'Running in circles, coming up tails, heads on a science apart. Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, no one said it would be this hard. Oh, take me back to the start.' - Coldplay: The Scientist._**

"Reid? Spencer, where are you?"

Aaron Hotchner practically screamed down the phone at his young co-worker. Maybe this whole thing was a hoax; some prank. He prayed it was. He prayed that Reid was safe and in some café drinking his beloved coffee.

"Hotch, oh my God - I've messed up big time. Is the team there?"

"Of course."

"Can you put me on loudspeaker?"

A numb Hotch followed the wish of the hysterical voice down the phone. Setting it down, the BAU team huddled around the phone to hear what Reid had to say.

"Before you ask, I don't know where I am. I suppose that's probably best - you don't have to watch me die again. The man that took me is roughly six foot, brown hair, Scottish and has a scar down the left side of his face. That's all I know. I'm sorry."

Spencer Reid was obviously scared, but not being a newbie to kidnapping situations he was trying to act strong. The team were confused. The UnSub had never let a victim have a phone call before - but there was nothing normal about this situation.

The team could picture him, his curly hair falling over his pale face as he hunched over with his hand pressed to his face. His face would be covered in tears and his dark brown eyes would be wide with fear.  
"I'm so sorry for my rudeness, and for all the issues that I've caused over the years. I know they've been abundant." With a slight sad laugh he swiftly continued, "I have five minutes to say goodbye."

JJ was crying. Prentiss placed a long, supportive arm around her shoulder. She knew that JJ had taken it upon herself when Reid had been kidnapped by Tobias Hankel. JJ honestly didn't know how she could face that situation again. The whole team stood in an atmosphere of angst and tension.

The voice on the phone spoke in a broken, ragged tone that could melt the heart of a stone sculpture. "Hotch, thank you. You supported me when I felt like I should have been fired, you've overlooked every mistake I've ever made and you've never once ratted me out to Strauss. You were always my ideal role model for if I ever became a Dad, you never let your job interfere with your love for Jack. And he's lucky to have you. I want to thank you for being the first to hug me in that graveyard six years ago - you are the most honourable and forgiving man I have ever met. Hailey would be proud of you."

Aaron Hotchner couldn't fight the tears that slipped down his cheeks. He hoped that after they found Reid - and he hoped they found him alive - he could be the first to hug him again, but if they didn't make it there in time, how would he explain to Jack that Uncle Spencer was dead? He couldn't speak; his heart was caught in his throat and his mouth was dry.

Reid, unaware of how he had affected Hotch, moved on to the next person, "Rossi, I know how annoying you found me when you first returned. Believe me, I found myself annoying but I was totally in awe of you. I always wanted to be a writer when I retired. I suppose it's a bit late now. I want to thank you for being like the cool uncle that I don't remember having and thank you for inspiring me."

David Rossi was fighting to maintain his unique cool exterior and he wasn't given the opportunity to speak as Reid said, "Emily-oh god Emily, I'm so sorry! I was stupid and immature. Why did I not understand immediately? Guess I was just so hurt that you didn't tell me that you were going to fake your own death, but know that I was so happy to have you back. Your my best friend and never forget that I will never forgive myself for being such an unsupportive friend."

"Jayje - I honestly don't know how I can say goodbye to you. You mean so much to me, like the sister that I never had. Never ever blame yourself - forget about Tobias because I can tell that it haunts you. Remember that I never blamed you. You are stronger than the UnSubs we deal with. Thank you for being so strong and thank you for making me Henry's godfather. You made me so happy that day - raise him to be as strong as you and please JJ, tell him I love him. Can you all ask Garcia to give my Mom that voice file from the anthrax case and tell her that I love her too? And last but definitely not least, Derek. I guess you won that prank war. You have to stop letting this job get to you, because one day it will break you as hard as you break doors. You are amazing, start trusting people and find someone special."

To everyone, Spencer Reid concluded, "I love you all so much; you are my family and you are everything to me - make sure they pick a good photo of me for the wall."

And with a short nervous giggle, the phone cut out, leaving not a completely dry eye in the room.

* * *

Spencer Reid looked at the small disposable cell phone in his right hand. _Dead_. In a fit of fury he threw it across the darkened room. It hit the wall with a satisfying _crack!_

Leaning back in the chair his torso was restrained to, leaving his arms free, he let a fresh set of tears fall from his eyes. _I must look like a wreck_, he thought quickly scolded himself. He was sitting in an unknown location with a man who likes to drug people and then strangle them… _could this day get better?_

As though the UnSub could read minds, a door opened - directly in front of Spencer - letting a sliver of light into the room. It was dank and plain, extremely functional.

The man gave Reid an eerie smile. "Well hello there, how did the BAU team respond to their little phone call? Worried about wee Spencer are they?" The thick Scottish accent moved towards Spencer, giving him a strong whiff of alcohol. He was taller than Spencer and more physically built. He had shaggy brown hair and brown eyes like Reid himself only the UnSub's eyes were cold and heartless.

"Oh Reid, we will have fun - but let's start with an introduction. My name is Logan and I'm going to be killing you in four days."


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N/ Please note that at this moment I am suffering major writer's block-but I wanted to upload so bad so this is a writer's block chapter, hench the shortness and the suckiness. Thank you:)**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**"What if I wanted to break, laugh it all off in your face? What would you do? What if I fell to the floor, couldn't take this anymore. What would you do?" The Kill: 30 Seconds to Mars.**

Spencer Reid took a pained breath as a harsh fist collided with his chin; the taste of blood erupted into his mouth as his lip burst open. _This guy is crazy_, he thought to himself.

"Oh, Doctor, did that hurt? I thought being shot would have prepared you for any sort of pain." Logan sniggered.

He was relishing this moment, as he did with every victim. The knowing of everything about his victims - it drove them crazy! That's what he wanted. He wanted to show the world that everyone and everything is vulnerable; that he wasn't the crazy one - they were.  
"How do you know that?"

_Oh, how I love that question_, Logan thought to himself. How did he know? Well, he did his research on the BAU team when they arrived. They solved cases all around the country and some had particularly interesting lives, including young Spencer.

_How did you become this?_

That voice…it was always there, doubting him, questioning him like a nagging spouse. He tried so hard to push it down - he wanted to be this - but it always resurfaced.

Choosing to ignore it, he leaned in close to the hunched over figure, "Oh, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. I know a lot about you."

* * *

The team were frenzied.

Emily Prentiss sat curled up in a chair beside the dark wooden table where Hotch's cell phone still lay. The voice of Spencer still haunted her thoughts as he apologized for something she never blamed him for.

Jennifer Jereau stood looking at the geographic profile, while at the same time staring through it. What would she tell her son, her beautiful three year old son when he asked when his 'Uncle 'pence' was coming over? How could she get on that plane without seeing his face; how could she walk behind his coffin; how would she live without her best friend?

Rossi was re-reading the case file; he would nail this bastard if it killed him. Every intake of breath hammered against his heart. _God knew what Reid was going through right now..._

The sound of Garcia searching the comfort zone for people who matched the profile - while crying loudly - echoed down the cell phone attached to Aaron Hotchner's ear. He refused to touch his own; it had brought so much pain to one room, he couldn't bear to pick it up. Normally Morgan would be trying to calm Garcia down, but he was angrily punching a wall while occasionally shouting, "That son of a bitch!"

"Hotch?"

Aaron raised his eyebrows as he listened to Garcia, "There are seven males aged thirty to forty who match the profile in your comfort zone. I'm sending the files over now! Can you do me a favour Hotch?"

"Anything."

"Find my baby boy."

"I will."

Hanging up, he picked up his tablets and began to read one of the files that Garcia had sent.

An hour later, after the team had controlled themselves enough to start reading the files, JJ spoke.

"Guys, I think I have something."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**'Just crash fall down, I'll wrap my arms around you now'-Crash by You Me At Six.**

"Garcia, give me everything you've got on Logan Branson."

Aaron Hotchner clung to the table as the sound of furious typing sounded down Rossi's cell phone. He still refused to touch his own, wanting to forget the goodbyes that his young team mate had given them.

"Logan Branson is thirty nine, originally from Glasgow in Scotland. He has a rap sheet, and not a good one - assault with a deadly weapon and drug abuse."

"Hang on! A deadly weapon?" Prentiss' voice was sharp and dry, not wanting the team to hear the turmoil of emotions running through her at that moment.

"Yes, my darling, a knife." Garcia was trying to keep up her optimistic view, but she was never good at this part. She'd nearly lost them all so many times and she was beginning to feel like this was the final straw. _It was always Reid_.

"But none of the victims were stabbed." Rossi's voice, for the first time since he came back to the team, was inexperienced. Part of him wished that he could have been there the first time Reid was kidnapped, but another part of him wished that it had never happened. He was wishing that they had never got asked to come onto this case; that they had never accepted to come. If they hadn't, Spencer would still be with them.

"No, but that's not all. When he was fourteen, his mother sent him to a therapist after he had seen his sister get strangled by her husband. Oh boy, take a look at the sister."

The team all looked down at their tablets. On the screen was a picture of a twenty year-old, her dark chestnut hair falling in ringlets around her face.

"She's extremely similar to our victims."

"Garcia, we need an address."

After rhyming off an address, the team hung up, strapped on their kevlars and went to the black SUV's.

* * *

"Don't doubt me!"

Spencer Reid jumped as the harsh voice shouted above him. His face was sore and bleeding. Using his free arms, he pulled at the tight cord around his chest. It refused to budge. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he struggled with it. He didn't want to die, but he knew he was going to. He was afraid.

A rhythmic pattern echoed outside the door to the dank room he was in, footsteps bouncing off the walls. Struggling even more, he used all his might to try and release himself but it wasn't working. The door flew open to reveal Logan, and he looked angry. When he saw Spencer in mid struggle, his face contorted into a deep fury.

"Did you think you would escape that easily?" He shouted at Spencer, grabbing his face tightly. Spencer swallowed, refusing to answer him, just in case it antagonised him further. Logan let go, a twisted smile coming onto face. He raised the hand that wasn't holding Spencer's face, to reveal a knife. It shone slightly in the nearly non-existent light. Spencer's eyes grew wide, "I...I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Too late."

Logan drew the knife back and plunged it into Spencer's side. Pain exploded in his side, he let out an anguished gasp, and slipped into the welcoming darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**_'I've been roaming around always looking down at all I see; painted faces fill the spaces I can't reach. You know that I could use somebody; you know that I could use somebody. Someone like you and all you know and how you speak.'_**** - Use Somebody by Kings of Leon**

Jumping out of the black FBI issued SUVs, the BAU team all ran in a strategic manner to the front door of the run down house. They were perfectly planned out: Morgan in front, the others following quickly behind, splitting themselves on either side of the dark wood door. Hotch and JJ on one side, Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi on the other. The only sound was the wind rustling the dead leaves that scattered the small porch and the sound of their shallow breathing. Everyone was scared, for the first time in a while. They all had a shared fear: a fear that Spencer Reid was dead.

Suddenly, a crash split through the eerie silence.

Derek Morgan had kicked the door down.

"Logan Branson?" Aaron Hotchner's voice was cold, and emotionless. He wanted this son of bitch on his knees, begging for mercy. The shouts of his team saying 'clear' echoed through the building.

_How is this place still standing?_ Hotch thought, as he stared at the living room. The smell of damp exploded in his nostrils. The room was small and grimy, litter dropped carelessly on the floor. Noticing a door at the far left of the room, he made his way towards it.

Gently, he eased it open. The smell was worse in there. The moulded walls that he could see through the semi-open door showed that Branson didn't care about how he appeared to anyone. Then Aaron saw a man, not much bigger than himself, sitting on the floor, whispering to himself repeatedly: "Shut up, I did it."

Murmuring into the microphone attached to his vest, that linked him to the other members of his team, he said, "I've got him."

The mass of brown hair - which was the UnSub's head - jolted towards Hotch. Blood was splattered all over his plain white t-shirt. His brown eyes stared at Hotch, yet not completely focused on him. As the rest of his team filed in, guns at the ready, JJ hesitantly stepped forward. "Branson, where is Spencer?"

"Don't!" The man's dissociative eyes suddenly hardened; he was aware that the FBI were there now. "Don't you dare come any closer Blondie, because I swear, I will do it."

JJ's face furrowed in confusion, _what is he on about?_ But it all became clear when he raised one of his hands. A knife - an old, rusted knife, splattered in blood - came into view. The team all caught their breath; the blood had to belong to Reid. Expecting the worse, their hearts dropped. Then they heard a scream of pain coming from below them. A scream that was high pitched.

Spencer.

"Morgan! JJ! With me," Hotch shouted as Rossi and Prentiss managed to battle the knife away from Logan.

* * *

Every return to consciousness was blinding with pain and himself screaming, willing his body to return to the blissful euphoria of darkness. Letting out a scream, he lost his grip on reality and slipped back into the darkness again. He was going to die.

_The darkness was everywhere around him, yet he wasn't afraid as he would usually be. It was serene; no noises, no people, just him. Looking around, he could see nothing. And he was thankful. Then, as though someone had hit a switch, a light appeared. It felt welcoming and safe. Pulling himself up, he began to cautiously walk towards it. The closer he got, he realized the light was coming from a room. Picking up his pace, he ran, bursting into the room_.

_The room itself was an interrogation room. The one way glass was at one end, the table was in the middle. Yet, unlike the interrogation rooms at the BAU building, this one had photos everywhere. On the floors, on the ceiling, on the walls… even scattered on the table. The only place deprived of photos was the one way glass. _  
_"What the...?" _  
_Bending down, he picked a random one up and turned it over, meeting the face of his godson, Henry. His long blond hair was scraped back and he was smiling into the camera. Spencer had this photo on his mantle. A stark realization hit him: he would never see Henry again. He would never show him another magic trick or be there to see him start school. With tears burning behind his eyes, he set the photo down. Striding over to the table, he looked at the ones laid out in neat rows. Gideon, JJ, Morgan, Hotch, Rossi, Elle, Prentiss, Garcia, his Mom...Everyone who had ever meant something to him, he could spot at least one photo of them in the room._

_His tears where beginning to fall like tsunami waves. Rubbing his cheek with his palm, he took another glance around the room, seeing something he hadn't noticed before stuck onto the glass. Making his way over to it, he tore off a folded page of paper that had Spencer scrawled on the front of it. Opening it up, he read the three simple words. _

_**Fight for them.**_

_And he was torn from the room, from the darkness, into reality._

* * *

"Reid? C'mon man, come back to me!"

Propping his best friend up slightly, Morgan was careful not to touch his knife wound, yet he had blood all over him. His voice was cracked and uneven as he begged Spencer to return from unconsciousness. His mind was flashing back to that night in an abandoned warehouse when he held Emily as she faded. The next seven months he had spent in pain, until she returned to him. Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he tried again to get a response from Reid.

"Spencer?"  
Suddenly, he coughed. It was a weak cough, and it sounded painful, but Morgan was happy that Reid had made some form of response.  
"Hey kid," Morgan said quietly.  
"M...Morgan?" Reid rasped, too weak to speak louder. Morgan smiled, being the strength his friend needed. A few tears fell out of his happiness, a new hope surfacing that his friend would power through. "Spencer, yeah man it's me, I'm right here okay? I'm not leaving you."

Reid sighed painfully. "I'm sorry."

And then the darkness claimed him once more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**_'Though I've never been through hell like that, I've closed enough windows to know that you can never look back. If you're lost and alone or you're sinking like a stone, carry on. May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground and carry on.'_**** - Carry On by Fun.**

If anyone - whether it be doctor, patient or visitor - looked into the room of Dr. Spencer Reid, they would feel drawn to him. It wasn't by his pale complexion, his unconscious state or the drips attached to his long thin arms; they would be drawn in by the people who sat around his bedside. None of the six people looked similar enough to be family, yet they all looked on to the young man with the same expression - an expression of love, fear and hope.

On one quiet night, three days after the BAU team had found their youngest member bleeding and semi-conscious, the room was empty of movement, except for the rise and fall of Spencer Reid's chest and the turning page of the book that David Rossi had on his lap. For the first time, there was only one visitor. The team had agreed not to leave him alone until he was better. Aaron and JJ had to get home to their children, and Garcia - being Garcia - had flown out from Quantico to ensure her Junior G-man was okay. However, she had become so emotional and tired from her flight, Morgan and Prentiss brought her backto the hotel to rest, leaving Rossi alone.

David didn't mind being alone; he enjoyed the chance to catch up on some reading, yet his attention kept slipping from the novel in front of him to the unconscious form of his co-worker. His face was pale; no colour covered it, apart from the dark circles that constantly darkened his deep brown eyes. He looked skinnier than usual, and he looked almost peaceful. He hadn't woken up in the three days he had been there; he just lay there, occasionally moving his arms or his legs. Sighing, David rubbed the bridge of his nose and sat his book on the floor. Leaning back in the plastic coated armchair, he let his heavy eyes droop and fall, slipping into a serene state.

* * *

Spencer didn't know where he was. He could near noises; noises of people walking about, of machines beeping steadily. Scared, he didn't want to open his eyes. He was scared of what he would find. Moving his fingers, he felt a thick material covering them. A blanket. Cautiously opening one eye, he saw that the room was lit by a single lamp, but the sudden light nearly blinded him. Closing his eye again, he sighed, trying to move his arm; he felt a tube move with it - a drip. All his limbs felt heavy and sore. Opening his eyes again, the light hurt less. He was in a hospital, his room door wide open. Outside, a few nurses sat talking to one another while a doctor looked at a flip chart and laughed occasionally at the nurses. Turning his head to the side, he noticed someone asleep on an armchair, Rossi.

Spencer didn't know if he should wake up him up or not, as he wanted to know what had happened as he couldn't remember much. He remembered Logan and the knife, and Morgan talking to him, yet nothing else. _How did he get here? How long had it been? Where was everyone else?_

"Dave? David?" he said, wanting to see if the older man would stir. At the sound of his name, Rossi's eyes snapped open, widening in shock as he looked at Spencer pulling himself up in bed, wincing slightly.

"Y...You're awake?"

Reid laughed slightly. "Yeah, I think so."

Rossi quickly stood up and ran out to get the doctor to check Reid over. After a quick examination the doctor estimated that he would be fine, he would just have a scar where the knife went in. Once the doctor left, Rossi leant forwards in the armchair. "How are you feeling?"

Spencer shrugged. He didn't know; he felt groggy but that may have been due to the long sleep or the painkillers. "I...I feel like I was stabbed," he joked, lying back on the bed. Hospital beds weren't the most comfortable of places but Spencer was just glad he hadn't died. "What happened? I mean, after I spoke to Morgan...Which I kind of remember… not really." Realising he was rambling, he instantly cut himself off.

Rossi smiled. He had to admit, he was scared that he would never get to listen to ramblings of Spencer Reid again and he was relieved that he could. Every fact that the young man sprouted off, he would graciously accept from now on, because this experience had taught him that he was lucky to know such a person. David now knew why the team was constantly worried about the younger man; they had been through almost losing him twice now, and for him personally, once was enough.

"After you spoke to Morgan, you blacked out again. JJ got Logan, you came here. You were dehydrated and losing a lot of blood, but the doctors managed to get the bleeding to stop. You haven't woken up in three days."

Spencer's eyebrows rose. "Three days, seriously?" Rubbing his face he sighed. "I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't want to do this to everyone again."

"Spencer, this isn't your fault. No one wants this to happen to you again. All of us have been here the whole time, JJ and Hotch had to get home to Henry and Jack this morning and Morgan and Prentiss took Garcia to the hotel. She wouldn't stay at Quantico; she had to be here for you. We're a family; we'll be here whether you want us to or not."

Smiling slightly, Spencer mumbled, "I'm sorry, I've been so weird lately. You guys don't deserve that...You really don't."

"Want to talk about it?" Rossi's deeply tanned face softened; he was always available for a chat with anyone, especially his team members.

Spencer looked down; he was ashamed that he had actually acted so immature. "When Emily came back, I got a call. I was still so angry at everyone I didn't bring it up. I'm getting my five year medallion next month." Rossi's forehead furrowed in confusion; _why would he be so disconnected because of that? Isn't that something to be proud of?_

Seeing Rossi's face, Spencer continued, "I feel like a hypocrite because...When I thought Emily died, I bought a vial of Dilaudid. I was going to use it, oh God how I wanted to, but I knew that she wouldn't want me to...Then she came back. I nearly slipped back into my addiction for nothing. Then I got that call from John reminding me about the ceremony next month. I felt like I had failed everyone."

"You haven't failed anyone Spencer, you know that. If you had just told us, we would all be there for you. We always will be, Reid."

Smiling, Spencer started to feel tired again. Yawning, he leant back and made himself as comfortable as he could, being careful not to lean on his wound. Before he could reply to Rossi, he slid into a peaceful sleep. For the first time in months, he slept without a nightmare.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**_'Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you.'_**** - Fix You by Coldplay**

_Three months later_

It was a quiet night in Quantico, Virginia. The FBI building looked frozen; a few stray lights were switched on as agents caught up on paper work and packed up to get back to their families. Around the entrances and patrolling the floors, a couple of security guards checked the near empty building. On the floor that the Behavioural Analysis Unit was based on, the sound of elevator doors opening sounded, and out stepped Dr. Spencer Reid. Over his shoulder sat his mustard coloured messenger bag. Gripping hold of the strap, he made his way through the glass doors into the familiar bullpen. Empty, as he suspected. He dropped his bag at his desk and made his way to the kitchenette for some coffee. Taking something out of his pocket, he looked at it for a moment before smiling and putting it away. Filling his mug with steamy fresh coffee and his desired amount of sugar, he made his way up to the briefing room where he knew his impatient team would be waiting.

Walking through the door, he immediately heard the calling of Derek Morgan. "Hey, hey, Pretty Boy! Where have you been?"  
Tapping his nose, Spencer ducked out of range of one of his best friend's arm punches. As he set down his mug, he looked at his team, all present besides Garcia. Shrugging, he took in their attire. David Rossi was dressed in a suit jacket and a pair of dark jeans, casual yet semi-dressy; he looked like he belonged in the Italian Mafia. Aaron Hotchner was dressed pretty similarly, except he wasn't wearing a jacket; he looked like a regular father. JJ and Emily were dressed in plain dresses; JJ's blue, Emily's red. Both looked although they were going to a restaurant for a fancy meal.

Looking down at his sweater and jeans, Spencer raised his eyebrows. "Well, I didn't get the memo."

Shaking his head at his best friend, Derek Morgan grabbed the younger male's elbow, ushering him out of the room. Spencer left without any hesitation. If he had learnt anything in his time in the BAU, it was to trust your team in every situation, because sometimes they're all you were going to have. Stepping into the parking lot, everything immediately went dark.

"Guys!" Spencer panicked voice whispered. He hated the dark now, even more than before. The dark meant fear and it meant secrets. Feeling a panic rise in his chest, his brain went haywire. _Are they trying to scare me? Where are we going?_

David looked at his co-worker who was clearly panicking. The paranoia was something they hadn't beaten from the incident with Logan yet. Every night when Reid went home, he checked all the doors and windows were locked. It took them a month to even get him to sleep in his apartment alone; Hotch still got calls occasionally in the middle of the night from a scared Reid who had either had a nightmare or scared himself silly.

Walking over to him, Dave placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay Reid."  
When Spencer managed to calm down, they proceeded with their plan. Opening the door of a FBI SUV, they gently pushed him onto a seat. JJ and Morgan climbed in the back with Reid, while Prentiss and Hotch climbed in the front. Rossi would follow behind in the safety of his own car.

After driving for just over a half an hour, the cars drew to a stop. JJ gently lifted Reid's hand and pulled him out of the car. Inside his head, Reid was trying to figure out where he was, and for once he knew nothing. Allowing himself to be dragged down what felt like a gravel path, he felt JJ push on his chest, motioning him to stop.  
"Spence, take it off," she whispered, and stepped away.

Reaching up to his eyes, he quickly pulled the damned blindfold off his face. Squinting slightly at the sudden light, he looked around, dumbstruck. They were in the middle of a garden - a large one at that. His team stood in a circle, now including Garcia, around a large table filled with food and wine. Around the walls of the garden sparkled little fairy lights like the ones placed on a Christmas tree.

Looking back at his team, Spencer tried to speak, but word's refused to form.  
"Speechless, baby boy?" Garcia mused, raising her eyebrows. She ran forward and embraced her Junior G man. Three months ago, she was terrified that she was losing him. Now that she was seeing him almost well up at some lights and food, she hadn't a doubt in the world. He would always be their resident genius.  
Dragging him to the table, she shoved him into a seat. She then handed him a brightly wrapped parcel and smiled. "Happy birthday Reid, you deserve it."  
As he reached out, the first words formed, "Thank you. So much." Opening it up, he laughed. On his lap now sat a book called _'Dummy's Guide to Computers'_. "Thanks Pen!"

While the others handed him his gifts, he happily received them. When he was in hospital, he was sure he was never going to see his thirty-first birthday, and now that he had, he couldn't be happier. At the end of the gift opening, he had a hand drawn card from Henry, a new sweater from JJ and Will, three new ties, a cookery book from Rossi and the team had all together bought him a cake. Smiling as his team sat down and watched him blow out the candles, he started to dig into the sweets.

Five or ten minutes later, he stood up, tapping the side of the glass to get their attention.  
"Hey, everyone?" Ducking his head a little when they all looked at him, he took the thing he was looking at earlier out of his pocket. His face broke out into a massive grin; he heard his team wondering what was happening.

"Spence? What's that?" JJ asked in her motherly tone. Turning to her, he held up what at first looked like a large coin. Then the team realised it was a medallion.  
A medallion from Narcotics Anonymous.  
A five year medallion.

When they realised, they all sprang towards Spencer, in what could have possibly been the first BAU team group hug.

"When did you get it?" The muffled shout of Prentiss came in the midst of it.  
Laughing, Spencer pushed himself away from the hug, unable to breathe. "Today, just before I came to meet you guys." He smiled.

As his team filed back to the table to resume their eating, Spencer Reid looked at the small, shiny medallion in his hand. Then he glanced at his team. He knew he would be okay, whether he gets tempted to use or stabbed or kidnapped...He would always be okay because he had them.

And that was all he could ask for.


End file.
